


beyond there is a different country

by Kt_fairy



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Love at First Sight, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Soft Boys, ack-ack is too good for this world, canon suicide mention, period typical behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 02:30:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kt_fairy/pseuds/Kt_fairy
Summary: Andy knocked softly on the bottom of the guitar to catch Eddie’s attention, shading his eyes from the sun to smile up at the gentle blue eyes that shifted down to look at him. Andy followed the long line of his thigh back down to the bump of his knee and back up again, just enjoying the feel of him. The few intimacies he’d had before had never been like this. There had always been something furtive and secretive about it. But, on a beach in the middle of the day with a whole troop of marines not ten yards away, he felt nothing but contentment.





	beyond there is a different country

 

 

_It has led us up those last few steps to the mountain pass; and beyond there is a different country._

_\- J.Robert Oppenheimer_

 

 

**Part 1.**

1944, July - Pavuvu.

 

 Andy squinted as sunlight flared brightly through the leaves of the palm tree he was lazing under. The cool sand shifted against his neck as rolled his head to the side to get the sun out of his eyes. Peering down the length of his body he blinked at the land crab who had settled a little ways outside of Andy’s patch of shade. It seemed he had caught it eyeing his boot, antennae waving curiously at him.

 

 A bright twang of a guitar pulled his attention away from it’s massive pincers and all the way up to Eddie. He smiled at the sprawl of his legs that stretched out from where he was leant against the trunk of the palm, guitar in his lap. Andy bent his knee to place his foot flat on the sand, prepared to lose this game of chicken with a goddamn crab for the sake of partly shielding them from the beach as he ran the back of his hand up Eddie’s thigh. The rough fabric of his pants was well worn and not quite smooth against Andy’s fingers, a thrill running through him at how they were warmed by Eddie’s skin as much as the all purveying heat.

 

 He knocked softly on the bottom of the guitar to catch Eddie’s attention, shading his eyes from the sun to smile up at the gentle blue eyes that shifted down to look at him. Andy followed the long line of his thigh back down to the bump of his knee and back up again, just enjoying the feel of him. The few intimacies he’d had previously had never been like this. There had always been something furtive and secretive about it. But, on a beach in the middle of the day with a whole troop of marines not ten yards away, he felt nothing but contentment.

 

 Eddie was still watching him from beneath his fair lashes when Andy glanced up at him again. Andy turned his hand slowly so he could mould his palm to the strength of his thigh, digging his fingertips in gently. He ran his thumb over the shape of Eddie’s knee when he ducked his head like he always did when he smiled, like he didn’t want anyone to see it.

 

 Like he didn’t know how Andy had basked in every bit of his happiness and regard since the first time they'd said two words to one another.

 

 Andy said his name softly and Eddie turned a small smile on him, a light in his eyes that had nothing to do with the reflection of the ocean, before looking back out to sea again.

 

 They sat like that for a while, Andy watching Eddie looking at the tide making its way out. He started to pluck at the strings of his guitar, fingers running aimlessly over the fret-board as he began tapping his foot, the movement jostling Andy’s hand. He concentrated on the movement, attempting to pick up the beat before Eddie started playing. It was a gospel song, he could make that out even if he didn’t recognise it, watching Eddie mouth the words to try and work some of them out.

 

“Hey Lieutenant. You know any Andrews Sisters?”

 

“I might”, Eddie drawled, squinting against the sun as he looked up at the K Company men who were edging closer.

 

“C’mon now Hillbilly”, Andy murmured, patting Eddie's leg. “Don’t leave your audience waiting.”

 

 Eddie sighed like it was a hardship, shaking his head as he switched into one of the songs that had always been playing on the radio in Melbourne.

 

 The boys whooped, a few dropping down to smoke as they listened while a couple started to dance with the amount of grace expected from army boots on soft sand. Andy smiled, leaving his hand on Eddie’s leg when he folded an arm under his head, eyes slipping closed as he listen to Eddie happily playing request after request.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

**Part 2.**

1942, November - Guadalcanal.

 

 Everyone could hear the sobbing.

 

 Andy knew his men. They were never so dedicated as they were now to the menial tasks worn out frontline troops always ignored. And they were certainly never this animated in their chatter. Ever.

 

 It wasn’t from lack of caring that they were trying to drown it out, he knew that as well. There were some things the men knew they had to avoid for more than their own sakes. That some things were not to be witnessed.

 

 Andy picked his way through the men, nodding in reply to a few of their greetings. Some of his marines were kids not much older than the ones he used to coach at football; he was still having to tell himself not to ruffle their hair like he used to when his team played a good game. After what these young men had seen, after what they had all done, none of them could rightly be called a  _kid_ anymore.

 

 He stepped around Gunny who was sat by the entrance of the blown open bunker like he was guarding it. He had stripped his rifle and was slowly putting it back together, head bowed and hands steady even though Andy had seen the tired look in his eyes when they had spotted the blanket covered body on the side of the road, surrounded by the surviving men of the party Andy had sent off ahead to get another aerial for their radio. It was supposed to be a safe job, the only complication he had foreseen would be persuading the supplies officer to hand one over. But they were all learning how this place took and took and took.

 

 Andy followed the sobbing to the end of the bunker that opened onto a stream that was backed up with so much shit and armaments and god knows what that not even the mosquitoes would live there. Snafu looked up at his approach, twitching like was about to snatch his arm back from around the man next to him but stopped himself, his pale eyes full of a challenge.

 

 Andy moved quietly over to them, sitting down gently on the spar of shattered concrete they were sat on. He met Snafu’s red rimmed eyes and sighed, dropping his gaze as he reached out to lay his hand on PFC Parr’s back.

 

 He was not the first soldier to lose the man he loved out here on these godforsaken Islands, and he wasn’t going to be the last.

 

 At officer training at Quantico they had told Andy to send men like PFC Parr and TFC Vincent to the typing pool or off to work in the hospitals, to get them away from the manly duties of the front line where their ‘proclivities’ would ‘disrupt the fighting unit’. But they had wanted to fight, were good marines who were popular with the men and so he hadn't - Andy never had been one for paying attention in classes - and now Vincent was dead.

 

 It wasn't his fault, it was the enemy who had killed him, but it left a sour lump in his chest all the same.

 

 Parr shuddered under his touch, curling in on himself before seeming to force himself upright. He was breathing like he'd just run a mile under fire, gasping in air as he tried to wipe away the red streaks from his face. “Sir, I…”

 

“It’s okay Parr. It's okay,” he said, knowing full well that it very much wasn't. “I'm so sorry.”

 

 Parr blinked at him, face looking as if it was about to crumple in on itself before he put his head back in his hands, whole body trembling.

 

“Charlie,” Snafu murmured gently, not seeming to know what else to say.

 

"Parr, I’m going to put you on medical rest for the next few days for fatigue.”

 

 Parr jerked around, eyes desperate as he grabbed onto Andy's arm. "Sir, I'm not a..."

 

"You can't be on active duty like this, you know that. I want you to take your time,” he prized Parr’s fingers from his sleeve and placed them back into his lap, keeping a hand resting on them gently. “I can't imagine what this is like, but I know it must hurt a great deal."

 

 Parr swallowed, glancing over Andy's face before nodding. "It does,” he said, voice far too fragile to be coming out of a man his size. “Falling for him was a dam stupid thing to do in times like this."

 

 "Forg't ya'live if ya don't," Snafu said gently, glancing over at Andy again before movement drew their attention.

 

 The newly made Lieutenant Jones, not all that long in from I company and still Hillbilly to those who knew him, was stood looking over them all with his inscrutable blue eyes. He looked quickly from Snafu to Andy before dropping his gaze to Parr. He tensed when Hillbilly stepped closer, but did not pull his hands out from under Andy's.

 

 Hillbilly was a very tall man and he cast a shadow when he stood over them, still looking down at Parr who was trying valiantly to pull himself together. Hillbilly's gaze flicked to Andy again like he was trying to puzzle him out before he dropped down into a crouch in front of Parr, expression as serious as it ever was when ducked his head to catch his eye. “You ever wanna talk t’ someone you come direct t’ me, ya hear.”

 

 Parr seemed to sag forward slightly, almost as if he wanted to bury his face in the Lieutenants shoulder. “I will, sir.”

 

 Hillbilly reached out and gripped his arm. "You're a good marine, and so was he. And he'd hate for you t’cry over him."

 

 Parr’s breath shuddered out of him as he gripped Hillbilly’s wrist. "You think so, sir?"

 

"Would you want him cryin’?"

 

"No,” Parr said softly. “I guess I wouldn't."

 

"It's not bad t’ cry, marine. ‘Specially not at a time like this. But you just keep rememberin’ that he'd want you t’ live. Ya can’t dwell on it."

 

 Parr nodded again, hands still trembling when Andy handed him the helmet he had discarded onto the ruined ground some point. “Take him to the corpsman Snafu. Tell him Captain Haldane says he's suffering from fatigue.”

 

“Sir,” Snafu said as he eased Parr to his feet, “Wanna say g’bye t’ the boys? They'll be missin’ you while ya gone.”

 

“Sure Snafu. Sure,” Parr put his helmet on and gave Andy and Hillbilly his usual sharp salute which they returned, the two of them standing in silence as they watched Snafu follow him up out of the ruins of the bunker.

 

“You handled that well,” Andy finally spoke up, turning to look at Hillbilly who was watching the men come up to what had been the entrance of the bunker so they could speak to Parr.

 

"I've dealt with plenty of things like that in my time in the service, Skip,” he said simply.

 

 Andy dropped his gaze, hands suddenly restless at his sides. He hadn't been naive about all this before his class at Quantico had been sat down and given a Sexual Health lecture which had covered everything from prophylactics to homosexuals. He'd had plenty of offers from girls and guys before the war- he wasn't too humble to admit that he wasn't a bad looking fella - and on the few times he had _wanted_ he'd taken them up whatever their gender. But there had always been that fear of being exposed, being kicked out, or marched up the aisle. Of disappointing his gentle and loving parents.

 

 Killing wave after wave after wave of men, of Japanese, knowing you'd die in the dark and the damp if they had more men than you had ammunition, had changed things.

 

 Snafu was right, you'd forget you were alive if you didn't let yourself feel the things that made you human. Not that Andy had much control over it this time. He could see the one he felt so much for covered with a blanket on the side of the road just like Parr had. But unlike him, if he was not as brave and bold as everyone said he was, he would not have the memory of one gentle look, one smile that was only for him, of one loving kiss, to ease that loss.

 

 He straightened up to find Hillbilly was already watching him, clear gaze seemingly on the brink of wavering when Andy caught his eye but he held firm under his attention.

 

 “War forces you take your chances when they come around, I suppose”, Andy ventured, Hillbilly making a quiet noise of agreement. “Makes you look yourself in the eye and force you to be honest with yourself."

 

 Hillbilly’s shrewd face gave little away as he stood quietly, Andy waiting him out. "Didn't take a war fer me t’ be honest. I didn't have much of a choice."

 

 Andy nodded, shifting his feet as his flair of confidence began to rapidly to wane. Hillbilly might already have a lover, he was certainly handsome and likeable enough. Or he might not want a superior as one. He may not even look at Andy and feel the same want that came so rarely to him.

 

"I..." Hillbilly started, "I didn't mean t’ make ya uncomfortable, sir.”

 

"I'm not uncomfortable, Hillbilly" Andy took a deep breath, reminding himself he was a decorated officer and a marine, goddammit. "That’d be hypocritical."

 

 Hillbilly started. Surprise was an uncommon look on him, he didn’t seem to be capable of it after all those years in the service. Andy almost laughed, stomach feeling like it was suddenly full of bubbles. Hillbilly appeared to be on the brink of speaking, looking at Andy a little like how he looked at the men when Andy spoke to them. Standing at his shoulder and making sure they were paying attention to their commander, not just sitting there in dutiful silence.

 

 That presence was a comfort. Andy was not a nervous officer, he lead easily, but it made the experienced, battle hardened soldiers looking at him less intimidating if he had one standing next to him staring right back at them.

 

 His neck started heating like a awkward schoolboy as he remembered every time he had gone and sought Sargent Jones out when they were new on Guadalcanal, the times he had caught himself just before he had started flirting. He found himself suddenly anxious about how the commission he had put Jones in for on the merit of his abilities, to the transfer into K company that Andy had requested, might look to Hillbilly in this light.

 

 "Well," Hillbilly started, Andy bracing himself for a polite rejection. "That does change a few things, Skip." There was a playful glint in his eye Andy had only seen on the occasion of his pulling out his guitar for the men.

 

 Hillbilly smiled when Andy sighed, shoulders relaxing from where they had been tensing up around his ears. “I’ll tell you now Hillbilly, that is both a pleasure and a relief to hear."

  

                                                                         ______________________

 

 **Part 3**.

1943, March - Melbourne.

  

 Passes, after that first out of control night when every Marine fresh off the boat from Guadalcanal had gone wild in the city, had been hard to come by. Even for officers.

 

 After the weeks of supervising the men's punishments of mindless drill and scrubbing every inch of their Cricket Ground Billet, whilst having to strictly enforce the passes that _were_ granted, Andy’s turn had come.

 

 As he was an official Captain now, paperwork completed and all, he had managed to wheedle one for Hillbilly as well. He went looking for him as soon as he had the passes tucked safely into his top pocket, finding him in the visitors locker room checking the new shipment of equipment that had been stacked there.

 

 Andy paused in the doorway, thinking how very strange Hillbilly looked with a clipboard in his hand instead of a rifle. He knew Andy was there, Hillbilly was too good a solider and too bright a man not too, but he did not look over until his inventory check was finished, eyes softening when his mouth crooked into a smile. “Skip.”

 

“How’s it going, Eddie?” Andy asked as he stepped up to him.

 

“Okay” he tapped a crate with his clipboard. “There’s enough for every man t’have somethin’ new at least.”

 

“That’s about as much as we could hope for,” Andy said as turned to perch on a pile of boxes. “I bring good news.”

 

“We’re all going t' Hawaii for the rest a' the war.”

 

“Not quite. You have a pass for this weekend, Lieutenant Jones.”

 

 Hillbilly slid Andy a look. “Do I now, Cap'n Haldane?”

 

“You do. Want to catch a picture?”

 

“Sure. Ain’t been t’ the movies proper in a good while.”

 

“I’m paying.”

 

 Eddie raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling. “Can’t rightly say no if that’s the case.”

 

“Good,” Andy felt himself grinning as he stood. “Good. I’ll get us a hotel as well.”

 

 Hillbilly’s expression didn’t exactly falter, but it shuttered for a moment before he seemed to shake himself out of whatever that had been. “Looking forward t’ it, Skip,” he said, something a little hesitant about the edges of his smile as his eyes flicked around the room before going back to Andy.

 

“You know you can call me Andy.”

 

The hint of strain in Hillbilly’s smile eased. “I look forward t’ it, Andy.”

 

 

 

 Of all the things that he had missed since shipping out - hell, since joining up - a really good, comfortable chair was one of them. Andy had never been one for sitting about, even exam halls had always found him fidgeting in his seat, but, after what had seemed like an age of relentless activity, he felt loathe to ever get up again.

 

 Hillbilly seemed to be of the same mind, sprawling slightly on the small couch that was at a right angle to Andy’s chair like he’d never sat on such a plush seat in his life.

 

 It wasn’t the best room in the hotel, not by a long shot. Captain’s pay wasn’t that great, but rank and American uniforms had gotten them an upgrade to one of the better rooms it seemed. And a bottle of wine on the house, which still sat unopened in it’s cooler because Hillbilly didn’t drink.

 

 The film they had ended up seeing had been all right. Something mindlessly funny that only went down as well as it did because everyone in the theatre had been laughing in the way people desperate to be distracted sometimes did.

 

 Andy had leant into Eddie to say something near the start of the film and had stayed there for the rest of it, placing a hand on Eddie’s lower back when they had joined the crowd of people shuffling out of the theatre and onto the street. They had strolled around for a while afterwards, taking in the sights and talking as they enjoyed the cool breeze and the air that smelled of everything that wasn't sweat and rotting gear and death.

 

 The city had been crowded that night, bars and clubs and restaurants full of locals and GI’s, and they had ended up back at the hotel and up in their room with eagerly provided room service. It was as much to have a break from _sir’_ s and being looked at by well meaning (and sometimes not so well meaning) civilians as it was to make this feel more like a courting.

 

 It could never be a proper one, a ‘normal’ one, Andy knew that. Hillbilly would probably baulk at the very idea. Nevertheless the way he had been brought up said that, if you really liked someone, if you were serious about them, then were was a way of going about things.

 

 And Andy did like Hillbilly Jones a whole lot.

 

 A date should entail soft looks and pleasant conversation and maybe a touch of hands which, for obvious reasons, they couldn’t go about in public. Not that there had been much of that once they had some privacy. The both of them were too excited by the prospect of actual, decent, freshly cooked food that they’d been too busy eating it, conversation conducted with full mouths and cutlery waved around in a way that would’ve got Andy a wrap on the knuckles at home.

 

 They flopped out by the unlit fireplace afterwards, Hillbilly’s long legs flung out so one of his ankles was resting against Andy’s foot as they smoked in silence.

 

 “Can’t rightly remember last time I ate steak that good,” Hillbilly mused, rolling his head back to blow a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. “Don’t think I ever have.”

 

 Andy looked over him; from the line of his exposed throat to the breadth of his shoulders, the freckles smattered across the sharp line of his nose. Andy got caught on the surprising gentleness of Hillbilly's mouth before trailing his eyes down over his body that was still trying to be gangly under all the whipcord muscle the Marine Corps had given him.

 

 Hillbilly shifting to sit up had Andy’s gaze snapping away automatically, looking back at him when he remembered that here, in this room, he could look.

 

 “Skip…” Hillbilly started, looking at Andy before turning to stub out his cigarette. He licked his lips carefully, as if he was collecting his thoughts. “With all this coming outta your pocket a fella might think...well, that you’re lookin’ t’ get fresh.”

 

 Andy took a drag on his cigarette, managing not to cough on it in surprise and make an idiot of himself. He had expected something like this might come up. You spend enough time in the army and you get to know it’s quirks. Like thousands of young men pouring into cities from their bases on weekend passes, those without a place to stay letting locals take them home in exchange for food, somewhere to sleep, and maybe a lift back to base if they were lucky. He would never judge Hillbilly if anything like that had gone on with him, Andy wasn’t in the habit of being harsh on people.

 

“No. I asked you out so I’m gonna pay,” he tapped the ash off his cigarette. “I like your company. I like _you_. I wouldn’t say no if we did end up getting fresh. But that’s not why you’re here, Hillbilly.”

 

 Hillbilly looked down at his hands and huffed a sigh. “I know. You’re a - an upstanding man… An educated one too, an’ they have all sorta peculiar ideas about things,” he teased, smiling when Andy chuckled, shaking his head. “But...well, ya see - this ain’t how it tends t’be between men in the service. As far as I’ve seen.”

 

 “Well, it’s how it is with me.”

 

 Hillbilly stood, towering over Andy who straightened as he looked up at him. He watching as he covered the space between them in a stride and dropped down into Andy’s lap, the chair making a protesting creak at the added weight.

 

 Andy grabbed at Hillbilly’s hips as he folded his long body to fit himself against Andy, knee’s settling on either side of his thighs. Hillbilly cupped his face in his warm, rough palms, thumbs sweeping gently over his cheekbones. “You’re sweeter than you know, Andrew Haldane.”

 

“Well…” Andy breathed, licking his lips and feeling a bit foolish as he blinked up at Hillbilly, fingers flexing against his hips. “I like you a whole lot, Edward Jones.”

 

"As I'm callin' you Andy, it only seems right you call me Eddie."

 

 Andy pressed his thumbs into the hard line Hillbilly’s hipbones under his uniform pants as he tried the name, “Eddie,” on man in his lap.

 

 Eddie leant in and kissed him, dry and soft and easy, pressing in closer when Andy tightened his grip on him. They kissed one another slowly, taking their time, neither trying to take it over nor deepen it beyond a few playful sweeps of tongue. Andy pulled Eddie’s shirt out of his pants and rested a hand on his side, letting out a pleased hum at the feel of him.

 

 They eased off from kissing eventually, Eddie resting his hands on Andy’s chest as sat back to look down at him. He was flushed under his tan, eyes bright and lips more pink than usual from their kisses. From kissing Andy. He licked his lips, still tingling with the pressure of Eddie's mouth, and shifted under him, reaching up to touch Eddie's face.

 

 Eddie smiled, brushing his lips over the inside of Andy’s wrist, letting his hands run (appreciatively Andy hoped) over his shoulders. He shifted in Andy’s lap, his weight pressing Andy down into the chair cushions as he settled against him, kissing softly over his jaw. “I could still suck you off,” Eddie whispered in his ear, voice half teasing.

 

 Andy gripped Eddie tightly, then pushed at him until he got up from his lap. His expression was unsure even when Andy stood as well, going easily when Andy backed him up until the backs of his legs caught the edge of the couch and he collapsed down onto it. His eyes never left Andy’s face as he set his knee on the seat and pushed Eddie to slip down sideways against the cushions.

 

 He was so damn handsome, Andy thought as he bent to kiss his throat, slipping his hand back under Eddie’s shirt as he pressed a kiss to his mouth again.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

 **Part 4**.

1942, August - Guadalcanal.

  

 Andy wiped the sweat from his brow for the hundredth time that morning. He had gone way past being irritated by it, was deep into the worn down acceptance that this was his reality now.

 

 What with the soupy humidity, the thick jungle, the strain of dysentery racing through the whole Marine Corps, and, of course, the Japanese, it was the least of his worries. But it was currently his most pressing problem. He wouldn’t be any good at spotting an ambush or leading his platoon through fighting one off if he was blinking his own sweat out of his eyes.

 

 He wiped his sleeve over his face as he looked towards his Captain who was signalling at him. He wanted Andy to take one of his machine gun sections around to the right of where K company was moving through the trees, screening the gap between I company and them.

 

 He signalled to his men and they moved off the trail, stepping carefully through the undergrowth. They walked until Andy’s thighs started to burn from how he was crouching, shirt soaked and eyes stinging with sweat, finally pulling up when the point man waved them to stop. The sergeant signalled that they were holding here because of something further up the line and Andy could have whooped for joy, sending a man to check that I company had stopped as well. If there was a gap in the line the Japanese would find it and go straight through it, they seemed to have real a knack for that.

 

 The newer marines looked about the jungle nervously while the old hands kept an eye out as they sipped from their canteens and adjusted their equipment. Andy tried wiping his face again and huffed. He was a new officer to both the men and to the corps, he wanted to appear sure and in control for the sake of the men - for the old hands to trust him and to reassure the new ones. If asking what the older marines were doing to stop the sweat pouring out from under their helmets would undermine that more than suffering in silence, he wasn't sure.

 

 If only being an officer was just about making sure the enemy killed and captured fewer of your men than your men killed and captured of theirs. Then even more idiots than usual could do it.

 

 Andy shook himself, looking into the depths of the trees to try and spot if there was something human shaped watching them. A ripple of movement behind him drew his attention and he turned to find an unknown marine picking his way through his men. He came to kneel down next to Andy, sharp gaze flicking around the surroundings before turning to him.

 

 “Sergeant Jones, I company”, he said, voice efficient and clear with Appalachia wound through every syllable.

 

 If Andy hadn’t been resting on one knee there was a good chance he would have fallen on his ass. I company’s Staff Sergeant was, without exaggeration or hyperbole, the most beautiful person, man or woman, Andy had ever seen. Under the smears of grime and the ever present sheen sweat there was something delicate about his features. Not in a feminine way, there was no getting him confused for a dame in a certain light, but they were still fine, made even more so by how alert he was. His wide mouth, whose lips were neither smooth nor pillowy, was still soft even when pulled into a grim line.

 

 Andy snapped himself out of this revelation. This was neither the time nor the place, and he hoped he answered quickly enough that Sergeant Jones wouldn’t think he was yet another idiot drafted officer. “Lieutenant Haldane. What brings you to K company, Sergeant?”

 

“My CO was wondrin’ why we stopped, sir,” he looked around at Andy’s men. “Sent me to ask you in K what's goin’ on.”

 

“A hold up further up the line”, Andy explained, wiping his face again. Even playing baseball on the hottest of summer day’s he’d never sweated like this. “So we’re waiting,” he glanced around at the jungle. “Hope it’s not for too long, not the best place to hold up.”

 

 Sergeant Jones made a noise of agreement, already watching him when Andy looked back at him. “If ya don’t mind me sayin’ sir,” he said in an undertone, “If ya put Vaseline on ya eyebrows it keeps the sweat outta your eyes.”

 

 Andy couldn’t help but beam at him, “Thank you Sergeant. I appreciate that.”

 

 Sergeant Jones nodded. “Sir.”

 

“Tell your CO we’re putting up a defensive screen for K so he won’t have to worry too much about his left flank.”

 

“Will do, sir,” Sergeant Jones tapped his dirty fingers to the rim of his helmet in a tiny, unnecessary salute and made his back towards I, picking his way through the undergrowth with more grace than a man with legs that long ought to have.

 

 Andy did not watch him go, instead glancing down at his watch to check the time before pulling his pack around to search through it for his first aid kit that contained the Vaseline. “Brown, take your squad and keep watch on our rear. Collins, go and see where the rest of K is. Rest of you men sit tight and keep your eyes open.”

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

**Part 5.**

1944, May - Pavuvu.

 

 The tent flap pulled back, letting in a flash of blinding sunshine before it fell closed, the inside returning back to its gloom. Eddie moved through the empty space between the cots, skin damp from clean, cool water for once instead of sweat. His curls were darker and more lose under his cap, a few drops of water trailing down his neck to soak into the collar of his t-shirt.

 

 Andy glanced up from fiddling with his webbing, a welcome change to report writing, and found that he couldn't take his eyes off him. Eddie had to stoop slightly to fit in the tent and it made him seem all the taller, Andy watching the way his t-shirt pulled over his shoulders as he sorted away his wash roll into his kit bag.

 

"You took your time," Andy said quickly when Eddie turned and caught him staring.

 

 Eddie smiled, pulling his cap off his head and letting it drop onto his cot. "Wan’ed t’be nice and clean fer ya, Skipper."

 

 Andy wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that. He let his webbing drop into his lab and frowned up at Eddie. Most of the time everyone stunk to high heaven of gunpowder and old sweat and rotting equipment. They spent most of their time around one another stinking, frankly, and it never bothered them to be huddled up next to one another in a foxhole or passed out together in a hammock. The smell hardly registered anymore. Being clean was a luxury, sure, it felt great to get the dirt out of places you never…

 

_Oh._

 

 It's not like he had lied to Eddie. He'd never do that. It was simply that he never exactly made it clear that the furthest he’d ever gone with a guy before Eddie was the one time a Hockey player had put his mouth on him. He knew that Eddie had definitely done more than that. It might be old fashioned and below him, caveman-like some might say, but he didn’t like the thought of some Seagoing Marine being the first to know him like that.

 

 His eyes flicked away and then back to Eddie who had been able to read him so easily from the day they met. He was frowning slightly, "Skip?"

 

 Andy stood and stepped close to him, feeling his cheeks heat under his tan. "It's...I've never done that."

 

"Now. Don't you go tellin’ me that the star quarterback ain’t never been with a girl."

 

"Well, yes. I have," he had been at college in the 30's, of course he wasn't a virgin. "But not...Jesus Christ Eddie, I can't even say it."

 

 Eddie closed the distance between them, pushing a damp curl off his forehead like he was a movie star. "We don't have t’ do that, Andy. Probably the worst time and place fer it anyhow. What with the land crabs..."

 

 Andy put his hands on Eddie's narrow waist and kissed the bump of his Adam's apple, the side of his neck, his cheek. "I do want to. Very much. It's... I don't know what I'm doing."

 

"You're sure?"

 

"It's not like you're about to pop my cherry."

 

 A smiled flitted across Eddie's face, "All right. If you want you can jus’ lay back an I'll do all the work, fer once. "

 

 "Hrmm. I don't know how I feel about getting a free ride." Eddie pursed his lips against a laugh and Andy tightened his grip on his waist as he kissed him.

 

  He managed to pull away from Eddie's mouth, turning to consider the rickety cots where they slept. He let go of Eddie so he could strip them of their sparse blankets and pillows, dumping them all on the compacted dirt floor. He glanced over at Eddie who raised an eyebrow at him and Andy stared right back.

 

"All right,” he conceded gently. “I won't argue with a gentleman."

 

"Good,” Andy smiled, stepping up to Eddie and kissing him again.

 

 They stripped themselves carefully, fingers running familiar paths over muscle and what soft places the war had allowed them to keep. Andy broke away to scrape his teeth over the dip at the base of Eddie’s throat, breathing hard as he gripped his thighs tightly before pulling away. He lay down on the pile of pillows and blankets, not getting much of a chance to look a Eddie's naked body before he crawled on top of him.

 

 They kissed for a while, enjoying the feel of one another, the gasps and pants as they rocked together until Eddie sat up to dig out the Vaseline. Eddie smiled down at Andy when he settled in his lap, the weight of him a reassurance Andy didn’t know he needed. He ran his hands up Eddie’s thighs, pressing his thumbs into the dip of Eddie’s pelvis as he spread his fingers as wide as they could go so he could touch as much of him as he could.

 

 Eddie dug his fingers into the Vaseline and dropped it to the side, rising up on his knees as he reached behind himself. Andy could only stare, transfixed by the concentration on Eddie’s face, his bicep tensing as he did whatever he was doing to himself to make his breath stutter out of him like that.

 

"What uh...what are you up to back there?" Andy ventured, trailing a hand over Eddie’s stomach and up his chest, sweeping fingertips over his nipples to make him shudder.

 

 Eddie reached for one of Andy’s hands but paused, giving Andy a considering look before slowly turning around so the long, strangely graceful line of his back was to Andy. He didn’t hesitate to palm at Eddie’s ass, his gaze getting caught up in the dip’s of his spine and the narrow sweep of his waist and hips. Eddie twisted to look back at Andy, knocking one is his hands out of the way so he could grip his ass cheek, pulling at it so that Andy could see Eddie slip his fingers into himself.

 

 "Fuck...shit", Andy hissed. He almost reached out to touch Eddie's fingers, to try and get involved but his hand was trembling too much. Swallowing hard Andy flopped back onto the pile of blankets, his eyes dropping back down to the sight of Eddie...opening himself. For Andy’s cock. " _Oh God_.”

 

 Eddie shifted after a while, Andy jumping when a slick hand wrapped around his dick. He breathed steadily in an attempt to keep calm as Eddie rolled a prophylactic onto him and slicked it up, catching him by the hips before he could sink down onto his dick. "For Christ's sake Eddie. Turn around. I'm doing this looking at your face!"

 

  Eddie let out a huff, taking his hand off of Andy’s dick when he twisted to look at him. "Ain’t much t’look at."

 

 Andy took a deep breath, trailing his fingers down Eddie’s back. “Sometimes I feel like you're the last beautiful thing left in the world."

 

 Eddie dropped his head a moment, Andy wanting to kiss the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “Those sure ar’ some purdy words,” he said as he turned back around to face Andy again, letting his accent sit heavily on his tongue. “An jus’ t’ flatter lil’ ol’ me.”

 

 Andy pushed himself up, grabbing Eddie to pull him close and kiss him. "If we'd had a bed I'd roll you onto your back and make love to you."

 

"Christ", Eddie kissed him again, sweetly, rocking his hips down against Andy's groin. "We don't have t’. Its okay if you wanna wait."

 

 "I _want_ you." He wouldn’t say that if these Pacific islands had taught him anything it was to never leave things unsaid, never put anything off because you might not live long enough to do it. He couldn’t stand the possibility of being Eddie's 'what if'.

 

 It also helped that Eddie was lovely, all angles and long planes of skin and whipcord muscle. His now dry hair was a fair mass of curls on top of his head that caught in the light coming from the lamp on Andy’s desk. The same light that was reflecting in the sheen of sweat on his collarbone and the swell of his biceps. He reckoned it made Eddie look like a work of art - something he'd never hear the end of if he let it slip out. "I want you more than anything."

 

 Eddie didn't ask again, reaching between them to squeeze Andy's aching cock, smiling into their kiss when his hips jerked involuntarily. "Good, 'cause I've been wantin' this."

 

 Eddie lined Andy’s cock up and sunk down onto him, pausing a few times when Andy gasped at him to stop. It was nothing like anything he had felt before and he didn't want to embarrass himself by going off before they'd even done anything.

 

 There was a charmed look on Eddie’s face whenever Andy looked at him. He was being patient with him, laying soothing kisses on his hair and against his forehead as he let Andy breathe through it. He’d be smug later on about the state Andy is in right now, sweating as he held onto Eddie with trembling hands, but he’d take it for the sake of this moment.

 

 Eventually, somehow, Eddie’s ass hit Andy’s lap. He let out a huge breath that ruffled Andy’s hair, giving them both a moment before leaning down to kiss him. The movement made Andy buck, grabbing at Eddie’s hips to make him hold still. "Jesus. Fuck, Eddie."

 

"All right handsome?" he murmured, kissing Andy’s face and wrapping a long arm around his shoulders, surrounding him so completely Andy almost couldn't breathe.

 

 He ran his hands over Eddies leg’s, feeling them quivering with the effort of holding himself still, dick hard and leaking between them. Andy wrapped a hand around him and Eddie made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "I'm gonna be straight with you. I may be a hero of Guadalcanal, but you've got me. I won't last."

 

 Eddie cupped his face and kissed him, opened mouthed and dirty, gasping against his lips when Andy started to jack him off. "I don't give a damn," he breathed, raising up and dropping back down, fucking himself on Andy's cock.

 

 Andy pulled his hand off of Eddie’s dick to brace himself against the blankets, sacrificing the soft noises he was making against Andy’s lips so he could fuck up into him. He was hot, and tight, and strong, riding Andy like this was something he'd been thinking about.

 

 Andy smiled, kissing his cheek as he smoothing his hand up Eddie's undulating back and into his hair. He tugged his head back, moaning when Eddie tensed around him. He kissed the bared tendons there, teeth scraping over his skin in mock possessiveness, letting go of Eddie's curls to reach down and start jacking him off again.

 

 Eddie cupped a rough hand around the back of Andy's neck as he curled over to kiss him, keeping close even when Andy started grunting and gasping too much to kiss him back. He began to circle his hips, rocking between Andy's dick and the hand on him and Andy knew was going to cum. "Eddie..."

 

"Give it me."

 

 Andy gripped Eddie hard enough to leave bruises, mouthing at his shoulder to hide his moans, a tingle running through him head to toe as he came.

 

 He shuddered and panted and twitched, edging towards being oversensitive but unable to stop himself fucking up into Eddie who was still rocking back on his dick.

 

"You with me, Skip?"

 

"Christ almighty. _Christ almighty_.” Andy tilted his head back to gaze up at Eddie, knowing his face was showing everything he felt for him, flexing his fingers to try and get his hand on Eddie’s dick moving again.

 

"That good for you?" he asked. He couldn’t rightly be insecure while his dick was still buried in Eddie’s ass but, well, the same old-fashioned part of him that had reared it's head earlier wanted to know if he compared - if he had made it good while it lasted.

 

"Like you don't know jus' what you do t' me", Eddie smiled, kissing Andy slow and long as they kept rocking together until Andy was too soft to do much. Eddie raised himself up on his knees and let Andy's dick slip out of him.

 

"Give me a few minutes and I could go again."

 

"No. I can't wait," Eddie said, settling back down in Andy's lap and thrusting into his hand.

 

"Anything for you," Andy whispered as he got his limbs under control enough to jerk Eddie off hard and fast. He set his teeth nip at the places that wouldn’t be noticed much between the scars and freckles littering Eddie's torso.

 

 Eddie came with a sigh, face buried in Andy's hair as Andy held him close. He could feel the shudders run through him as his cum streaked all over Andy’s stomach.

 

 They sat together panting and trailing lazy fingers over one another until Andy’s legs started going numb. Eddie slid sideways, would have flopped down on to the bare floor if Andy hadn’t dragged him to lay half on top of him. "Gonna have t’ hit the showers ag'in", Eddie murmured as Andy ran his fingers through Eddie's sweaty hair. "I’ll let you explain t’ the service company why."

 

 Andy laughed, kissing his curls, "How about a dip in the sea with me?"

 

"Mmm. Now that don't sound so bad."

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

 **Part 6.**  

1944, September 17th - Peleliu Airfield.

 

 Andy barely had a moment to think. Between the oppressive heat and the bullets thick in the air every little thing he said or did came by instinct alone. He couldn’t even pay attention to the men that fell when he waved them forward. His priority in this moment was to keep the one’s still able to move going forward to kill the enemy.

 

 He ducked behind a twist of metal that was once a plane, men crowding behind him. The dry air shook with explosions as the Mortar’s finally ranged in on the machine guns in the ruined control tower. He looked around for his Lieutenant as the building turned into plumes of dust, catching sight of someone who looked at awful lot like him scrambling to the top of a pile of rubble. Standing sure and undaunted and without a goddamn helmet.

 

 Andy was vaguely aware of his heart kicking in his chest as he watched him stood there, the tallest point on the battlefield and a dream of a target. Eddie called for K company and set off running, not once stumbling on the uneven ground as the men came pouring after him.

 

 Andy got up and lead the men with him forward, keeping low as a few bullets whizzed past his head. Eddie stopped, Burgin pulling up next to him and they started shooting at the top floor of the building as marines swarmed into it.

 

 Bullets stopped thumping into the earth, there was a yell in Japanese cut off with a gunshot, and Peleliu airfield was in finally Allied hands.

 

 

 

“Will you put that on!" Andy snapped as Eddie stepped around one of the crumbling walls, the helmet Andy had sent Gunny to scavenge for him still held in his hands.

 

 A more jumpy man would have reached for his weapon but Eddie only started. He whipped around to where Andy was stood in the thick shadows cast by the last intact wall on the whole airfield.

 

 It was too dark to see the expression on Eddie’s face when he looked down at his helmet, weighing it in his hands a moment before tipping it onto his head.

 

 Eddie took a moment before he straightened, blinking as he peered through the dark at Andy. “There wasn’t enough time to pick up another, Skip. Men were dyin’. And then after we were so busy gettin’ orders and findin’ water and gettin’ the wounded away .I know better, but it never sat right wi’ me. Taking things from the dead.”

 

 Andy reached out and grabbed Eddie by the sleeve, tugging him close enough for him to take him by the webbing and drag him into the shadows with him. “Don’t do it again.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“You’re no use to the men dead.”

 

“I know that, Andy.”

 

“Running around like it’s a goddamn war movie”, he took Eddie by his lapels and gave him a little shake, everything calm and quiet enough now to let his earlier fear finally settle. “Making all the girls swoon at that stupid, brave man on the screen leading the charge.”

 

 Eddie put his hands over Andy’s, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “They plain outta luck then, ain’t they. ‘Cause I got you.”

 

 Andy squeezed the fabric of his lapels as he looked into Eddie’s eyes that were reflecting what little light there was in the thick black of the night.

 

 The men all knew what was between them, he was sure of that. Just because they were okay with it, or were prepared to ignore it, didn’t mean he went about kissing Eddie where they might see. He only ever touched him on Pavuvu when not on duty. He was their leader, and so was Eddie, and they had to be focused on the men and their duty.

 

 It was as quiet as it could be out here. Everyone was too tired and drunk on fresh water to go wondering about, but Andy still stopped himself from kissing Eddie. Instead he leant back against the wall, not caring about the trails of dried blood that had dripped down from the floor above, pulling Eddie to press against him.

 

 The temperature was hardly bearable even in the dead of night, the very earth radiating the heat of the day back at them. Nevertheless, Andy needed him close after how close to disaster this afternoon had come, and Eddie didn’t protest.

 

 His hands were firm on Andy’s waist to steady himself as they lent into one another. Andy pressed his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of dirt and sweat, and, most vital in that moment, of him.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

 **Part 7**.

1944, January - Cape Gloucester.

 

 One of the officers attached to second battalion had shot himself the day before. Stripped himself down, hung up his uniform, and stuck a pistol in his mouth.

 

 Andy stuck his head out of the flap of his tent and sighed at the rain that had been falling heavily since before they landed.

 

“Ya heard if the...Dieppe raid? In Europe?”

 

“I think I read about it somewhere before the paper became ass-wipe. Most of them died.”

 

“He was one 'a the survivors. A Canadian.”

 

“Shit,” Andy looked back over his shoulder at Eddie who was perched on the side of his desk. “And they sent him out here?”

 

 Eddie shrugged. “Must’ve made sense at the time.”

 

 Andy looked back at the rain before straightening and stepping back into his tent. “Poor bastard”, he dropped down onto his half rotten chair with another sigh. “Coming from that fuck up to this one.”

 

“It ain’t a fuck up yet,” Andy tipped his head back to raise an eyebrow at him. “Yet.”

 

 Andy hummed noncommittally, letting himself tip sideways to lean against Eddie’s legs. They fell silent, listening to the patter of the rain on the soaked canvas of the tent as they sat with their own thoughts that, Andy found recently, always circled back to the rain.

 

“It's enough to drive a man to distraction,” Andy muttered, pulling out his damp cigarettes and managing to light two, handing one off to Eddie. “It soaks your stuff, your ammo, it’s all anyone can talk about. When this is over I’m moving to New Mexico so I’ll never have to see rain again.”

 

“After a while with all that dust an’ dry air you'd just be wantin’ it”, Eddie said sagely around an exhale of smoke.

 

 “If we had somewhere dry to go all this wouldn’t be so bad”, Andy took a drag of his cigarette and closed his eyes. “I always liked the sound of heavy rain on the windows when you got nowhere to be, just sitting indoors and looking at it. Listening to it hit the roof while tucked up in a nice warm bed. Sitting watching the drops chase one another down a window pane instead of reading your book.”

 

“I always had somewhere t’ be,” Eddie said. “Never had a bed of ma own until I joined the Corps.”

 

“When this is over and...and we’re state side, we’ll do all those things”, Andy said quietly. That Eddie would still want him after all this was over was an assumption Andy had tried not to make. He wasn't sure how being a college boy's illicit lover compared to a career as a decorated, experienced Marine officer.

 

 He chanced a glance up at Eddie to find him smiling around his cigarette. “That don’t sound so bad.”

 

 Andy took several long drags in quick succession. He turned slightly, knee hitting Eddie’s calf as he met his eyes. “I do love you, you know.”

 

 Eddie flushed, shifting his feet against the muddy floor, swapping the cigarette to his other hand and then back again. “I know. An’...I love you too, Skip. Andy.”

 

 Andy grinned, smiling wider when Eddie met his eyes before looking away again. He sat watching him, Eddie making it clear he was ignoring Andy on purpose but he didn’t mind. He was content to look over his pale, beautiful, oddly youthful face as he smoked down the rest of his cigarette.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

 **Part 8**.

1944, September - Peleliu.

 

 The boots were the first thing he saw, sticking out from the bottom of the poncho laid on the side of the tank.

 

 Despite Gunny standing over the sad looking bundle it took Andy a moment to realise it was a body.

 

 He immediately looked around his men shambling up the road to try and see who was missing. It wasn’t right for him to hope to see certain men, like his mortar section, over others, but that’s just how it was.

 

 Eddie wasn’t the one laid out on that tank, he’d know the shape of him anywhere, but he couldn’t spot him right away. Andy tried not to let his pace pick up a he walked to meet them, finally catching sight of him walking close to the side of the tank. The night spent up on the hills seemed to have made him sag in on himself, the poncho that always accentuated his size swamped him now. His helmet was pulled low on his brow, hiding most of his dark, dirty face. A stark white cigarette was burning down between his lips.

 

 Gunny met Andy's eyes when he got close, the man giving a small shake of his head before looking forward again.

 

 The company came to a halt when Andy reached them, the tank continuing to roll on down the road as he went up to Eddie.

 

 “He had a nightmare, Sir,” Burgin cut in before Andy got to him, something in his voice that reminded Andy of the kid’s he used to coach when they were trying to keep a teammate out of trouble. “Yellin’ something terrible. Hillbilly tried to calm him down. A bunch of us did sir, but he just got more and more frantic. We had to hit him, sir. He’d have brought the whole Jap army down on us. We…we only meant to knock him out.”

 

 Andy nodded, looking over at Eddie who ducked down further under his helmet, refusing to meet his eye. No matter how many pips or bar’s or fucking oak-leaves Eddie might collect he would still be an NCO at heart. He would always feel responsible for the men, and killing one - because he wouldn’t have let anyone else hit that man - would sit heavily on him.

 

 “There was nothing else you could’ve done”, Andy said gently, patting Eddie on the arm. Eddie nodded, still not meeting his eye as he shifted his rifle and hunkered down into his poncho.

 

 He gave Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze and his eyes finally met his. They were less bright than usual, dark smudges under them like he hadn’t had a moment’s rest since they left the airfield. “All these men are alive because of you. You mustn’t dwell on it.”

 

 Eddie nodded, finally taking a drag on his cigarette as he turned to follow the tank down the road.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

**Part 9.**

 1944, October - Peleliu.

 

 He hadn’t thought he’d be glad to see rain again in his life after Cape Gloucester, but Eddie had been right - one-hundred-fifteen degree heat could change anyones mind.

 

 The drizzle that had passed over the island for the last few nights had brought periods of momentary relief. It cooled everything down but made the mornings horribly humid and close. This downpour was almost as good as taking a dunk in a pond of clear water, hopefully flooding a few Japanese out of their hiding places so that time and men wouldn’t be wasted chasing them out.

 

 Gunny had somehow managed to keep a fire going long enough to brew up some of his horrifically strong, gritty coffee that always gave Andy a headache. Even so, he took the cup shoved at him when he was stood around borrowing warmth from the makeshift stove, holding it tightly as he breathed in the thick smell of the coffee.

 

 He ended up wandering over to the trees and the tall drink of water huddling against one, trying to keep the worst of the rain away.

 

 Hillbilly, being a pre-war Marine, actually liked Gunny’s coffee. He took a big gulp of it when Andy handed him the mug and laughing at the face Andy pulled at him. “We’ll get ya drinking Marine coffee yet, Ack-Ack.”

 

“I hope the war ends before then,” Andy muttered. The rain was dripping from the lip of Andy's helmet and he stepped further under the shelter of the high branches to try and stop it, hoping that he could lend Eddie some of his body-heat at the same time. Andy had always run hot, he used to be the first to discard his winter coat when Massachusetts began its slow turn towards spring. Eddie often complained about it on sticky Pavuvu nights, but he never once untangled their limbs to let the air circulate between them.

 

 Eddie took another sip of coffee, eyes fixed on Andy as he ran his tongue over his teeth to get the coffee grounds off of them. He smiled, full of affection and softness, and Andy felt it go through him like the static in the air before a lightning storm.

 

 The night was so dark and the rain so thick that Andy braved shuffling even closer, catching the scent of coffee on Eddie’s breath. Eddie lowered the mug as Andy swayed towards him, the metal digging into both their stomachs as it became the only thing between them. He pushed a wet hand up under Eddie’s poncho, tugging his shirt out of his pants so he could curl a hand over Eddie’s side to feel his heartbeat.

 

 Eddie swallowed, eyes flicking around the clearing before looking back at Andy. He tilted his head, nuzzling into the scruff on Eddie’s cheek before kissing him lightly.

 

 It was a crazy, reckless, dangerous thing to do. Yet when he pulled away to look at Eddie through the darkness he found himself leaning in for another bitter, coffee tasting kiss.

 

“You know what Hillbilly?”

 

 Eddie breathed hard and shook his head, “No, Skip.”

 

“I think I’m getting a liking for Marine coffee.”

 

 The dark shadow of a blush crawled up Eddie’s neck when he realised what Andy meant. He pursed his lips against a smile as he took another gulp of coffee, holding the mug out to the side so Andy could stand even closer as Eddie kissed his waiting mouth, slow and sweet.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

**Part 10.**

1944, October 12th - Peleliu Hills.

 

“Sir, we need you up front.”

 

 Andy didn’t stumble when he came to a halt but it was a close thing. He stared at the corporal looking at him earnestly before glancing around at the grey stone of the ravine they were trekking through. He had no memory of entering it although he could point to it's exact point on a map. Unlike everything else in his mind that was in sort of a vague mist, the orders that had brought them all here were still crystal clear.

 

 He rubbed at his sore, dry eyes and sighed, running a hand up under his helmet to scrub at his dirty hair. Sleep hadn’t been easy coming the past few days. Andy wasn’t sure how many. He went through long periods of feeling slow and heavy, starting into action when needed and falling back into apathy when he wasn’t.

 

“What’s happened?”

 

“Japanese positions up on Hill 140, sir.”

 

“All right”, Andy blinked sluggishly, then blinked again to wake himself up. He looked over his shoulder for Eddie, frowning when he couldn’t spot him threading his way towards him through the men.

 

“Tell the lieutenant we’ll be right there”, Burgin said, stepping up to his side and staring at the corporal until he turned and headed back to the front of the column.

 

 Andy adjusted his rifle, pressing his eyes closed as he tried to remember telling Eddie to take point.

 

 But he hadn’t, had he.

 

 He glanced back over at Burgin who had that look on his face NCO’s got when they were about to take Andy to the side and voice their worries about someone. Out here there was no-one for Burgin to voice his worries to about Andy. Hell, he was worried about himself, but he couldn't leave the men with only a green lieutenant to lead them into Japanese territory.

 

 Andy looked down at his boots and took a deep, steadying breath as he swung his rifle down off his shoulder. He thought of Eddie half a lifetime ago on Cape Gloucester. Of him knelt in front of a sobbing PFC Parr, telling him how tears were not all bad, that his love would want him to live.

 

 Eddie would want him to survive. To keep going all the way to Tokyo and beyond. But all he could see whenever he closed his eyes was him dropping amongst the distant rocks. Watching powerless through his binoculars as the men, their men, scrambled to bring Eddie to safety, desperate to stop the bleeding.

 

 It hadn't been the stricken looks on Snafu or Sledge's faces, nor Gunny dropping his helmet and just standing there, eyes red and staring. It had been Eddie’s mouth which was missing the softness Andy knew so well, lips slack and stiff instead, that had made Andy realise he wasn't breathing.

 

 He jerked away from the memory, looking back at Burgin who seemed to be on the brink of pulling Andy off to an aid station.

 

“Sir...Ack-Ack,” Burgin said in a low voice, shifting in closer so he could speak quietly. Andy looked down at the broken, rocky ground, the dirt on his boots. He regretted not brushing the dirt from Eddie’s face before someone covered him up. Regretted not feeling the warmth of his skin and the soft sweep of his his eyelashes against his fingers one last time.

 

 Andy shook himself, cutting Burgin off who stepped back, still giving him a careful look. He couldn’t send anyone else to do this. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his men, but for him to direct the attack and call in air support he needed to see the positions for himself.

 

 “Japanese positions,” he said to Burgin who nodded, turning to lead Andy through the men and up the incline towards the jagged grey rocks that framed the cloudless blue sky.

 

                                                                         ______________________

 

**Part 11.**

A Morning.

 

 Sunlight, as warm and as gentle as the body wrapped around him, dragged Andy from sleep. He sighed, refusing to open his eyes as he sunk into the sheets that were softer than any he could remember.

 

 He dozed for a little while, listening to the gentle patter of a passing rain shower against the windowsill, before stretching out. He wiggled his toes as he straightened his legs, kicking them out in front of him and then bringing them back, accidentally knocking into the one’s that had been curled up behind his.

 

 There was a disgruntled huff from behind him and Andy smiled as chapped lips passed over the top of his spine in the least effective of complaints. He tucked his legs back up into the warm patch under the blankets, resting his heels against boney shins.

 

 The hand laying loosely on his chest moved, callouses dragging slowly over his skin as it moved down to lay over Andy's hand resting on the mattress, long fingers tangling with his.

 

 Andy, the strapping young captain of football and marines, had never been held by a lover before. Granted there had barely been enough to count on one hand, but the girls expected it and the guys seemed to be pleased when he pulled them close. He had never thought not to, even with Eddie who was more tough and rugged than Andy would ever be. Such idea's of manliness that existed back home - if they had existed at all for Eddie - hadn't lasted well in the war, where humanity was stripped back to its best and most basic parts.

 

 Whether Eddie genuinely found comfort and pleasure in being held like this or was just playing along for Andy's benefit, he couldn't say. But the way he tucked himself into Andy whenever he curled around him, wanting to keep what was most precious to him safe and close, made him hope he found as much pleasure in it as Andy was finding in being held right now.

 

 Eddie's arm was a gentle, comforting pressure over Andy's ribs, his solid chest warm at his back, sparse chest hair a pleasant tickle against his skin. He was long enough for their hips to align whilst still being able to press his face into Andy's hair, his arm curled around his head protectively. Andy had never felt so peaceful, a contentment settling in bone deep and making him heavy and lazy with it.

 

 Andy mused on how he'd been missing out all this time as he pulled his hand out from under Eddie’s to scratch the strange, cold itch that had flared up at his forehead and was stretching back into his hairline.

 

 A sharp point of a nose nudged the base of his skull before a kiss was pressed into his hair, another just behind his ear. The final one lingered at the nape of his neck before Eddie settled back down onto the pillow they were sharing.

 

 Andy pulled his hand from his mussed hair and trailed his fingers down Eddie's arm. He felt point of his elbow and the fragile skin at the bend of it, the soft hairs that he knew had been turned so fair by the sun they were almost invisible, traced the delicate bones of his wrist before measuring his own fingers against Eddie's longer ones, raising his hand to his lips to kiss them.

 

 He sighed again, a wave of tiredness pulling him back under as he pressed their joined hands over his heart. He held them there securely, not wanting their hands to part in sleep as he let it take him.

 

 

_*_

 

_You are too young to fall asleep for ever;_

_And when you sleep you remind me of the dead._

\- “The Dug-Out” _Siegfried Sassoon_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried something new - for me - with the structure of this. So I hope it worked out okay. And pls forgive my inconsistent writing of a southern accent I...struggle.
> 
> I am allergic to writing sad endings, or sad things at all, so that is the reason this end's how it ends. I'll leave it up to your interpretation as to what's happened / going on/ when it is.
> 
>  


End file.
